How Important is A Name?

 

While working at the jail, I had an opportunity to see many unusual names.  Some that come to mind are Kimothy, Jessthy and a brother and sister named Carless and Carhonda (I have always assumed their names each reflected the transportation situation for their family at the time of their birth).  And, the other place I notice a frequency of unusual names is in gossip columns about people in the movie industry — Apple is the one that comes to mind, but I probably only remember it because it is only mildly quirky — the others are so unusual I can’t even remember them! 

While we may smile at these interesting names, I have always thought that it probably makes life a little easier for a person if they are given a name that doesn’t make them constantly correct the spelling and/or be asked to explain why they have such an unusual name (of course, in Hollywood, no explanation is probably necessary … after all, it’s HOLLYWOOD!). 

However, in defense of especially mothers who pick names that may not turn out to be a particular asset to their child – they may be having to pick a name just after having had their bodies traumatized by birth, possibly having  just received large doses of drugs, and at an especially chaotic, hormonal time in their lives.

But, picking the name for a blog (as Dorothy and the Tin Man would say) is a horse of a different color.  There, the more clever and quirky the better it seems, although I have known some very understated but wonderful ones, like an old favorite that is no longer around — Simple Words I Understand. 

I was first attracted to blogs named C. Beth Blog, The Smitten Image and Cakes Wrecks because their names interested me and made me want to see what they were all about.  And, I don’t know what other names Barb at Half Past Kissin’ Time may have considered using, but I can tell you that I think she picked the perfect one because I’m sure I’m not the only one who just couldn’t resist visiting a blog with such a cute name! 

All of this thinking about names comes from a visit I recently made to a blog whose name caught my eye in a comment section – Stickhorse Cowgirls.  As soon as I read that name, I guessed that this was a blogger who might be a member of my generation, because when I was growing up stickhorses were a very common part of our play, and I think “cowgirl” is a term more frequently heard in my generation too.  I was right — C. and V. are the writers and, while younger than me (aren’t you all?), I would still consider them of my generation.  And, Stickhorse Cowgirls has turned out to be an interesting, sometimes funny and many times inspiring blog that I am so glad I first noticed because of its interesting name.

Inspired by what I’ve read at Stickhorse Cowgirls, tomorrow I’m going to write about an old friend’s long-time marriage ending and how some women, rather than curl up in a fetal position and just hope the bad stuff will roll over them, not only stand up for themselves, but  “rise above it” with humor and grace. 

If you want to “read ahead” about  C., an attorney whose husband of 39 years left her for a much younger woman, and whose MIL (yes, the mother of the man who done her wrong) is moving into a small home on C.’s property (and they’re going to raise chickens together!) go to this Stickhorse Cowgirls post for a start.

Tomorrow’s theme: Can Stupidity be Terminal?

God Blessed Us with the Ability to Laugh!

 

A friend recently sent me a collection of inadvertent humor from church bulletins.  Here are some of my favorites from the list:

The Fasting & Prayer Conference includes meals.
———— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— -
The sermon this morning: ‘Jesus Walks on the Water.’ The sermon tonight: ‘Searching for Jesus.’
———— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— -
Ladies, don’t forget the rummage sale. It’s a chance to get rid of those things not worth keeping around the house. Bring your husbands.
———— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— -   

Low Self Esteem Support Group will meet Thursday at 7 PM. Please use the back door.
———— ——— ——— ——— —–                         

The peacemaking meeting scheduled for today has been canceled due to a conflict.
———— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— -
Don’t let worry kill you off – let the Church help.
———— ——— ——— ——— ——— ———
Miss Charlene Mason sang ‘I Will Not Pass This Way Again,’ giving obvious pleasure to the congregation.
———— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— -
For those of you who have children and don’t know it, we have a nursery downstairs.
———— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— -
Next Thursday there will be tryouts for the choir.  They need all the help they can get.
———— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— -
The Rector will preach his farewell message, after which the choir will sing: ‘Break Forth Into Joy.’
———— ——— ——— ——— ——— ———
At the evening service tonight, the sermon topic will be ‘What Is Hell?’  Come early and listen to our choir practice.
———— ——— ——— ——— ——— ———
Eight new choir robes are currently needed due to the addition of several new members and to the deterioration of some older ones.
———— ——— ——— ——— ——— ———
Weight Watchers will meet at 7 PM at the First Presbyterian Church.  Please use the large double doors at the side entrance.
———— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— -

And, here’s my own piece of inadvertent humor — I didn’t intentionally make the quote about husbands bigger than the rest.  I’m just not very good at transferring info from e-mails to posts! 

 

May God bless your Sunday with lots of reasons to smile or laugh.

 

The Possible Negatives of Wearing Cute Shoes

 

   When DD came for the Fourth of July, she had on these really cute shoes.

   But, they probably weren’t the best footwear for helping Mimi fish on the uneven ground around the lake.

   And they were not very efficient for killing this spider that happened to cross her path in the living room.  She stepped on him three times before he even realized he was in danger!  (Someone with more practical footwear finished the job for her.)

   And when she took them off, for just a minute …

   … her 11 year old daughter, Coco, who wears the same size shoe, tried to claim them!

 

   Next time, maybe you should wear sneakers? …

but, they were realllly cute shoes!

Sharing Some Favorites … Because I’ll be Cooking, Visiting, Sleeping, Cooking …

 

For the next week we will have our son, his wife, their two teenagers, their married daughter, her husband and their baby here visiting, and DD and her girls will also be here for the fourth!

Needless to say, there are some things that I normally do that just aren’t going to get done — like writing posts.

I wish each of you a happy, safe Fourth of July and I pray that God will bless each of you and keep you safe until we’re back in touch.

In the meantime, if you are so inclined, here are some favorite posts that I would like to share for each day during this “dry spell”.

Sunday, July 5 –  When our son-in-law’s mother died, the priest gave a wonderful sermon.  I share some of his thoughts here in There She Goes.  Here She Comes.

Monday, July 6 — Nicknames used to be soooo much more interesting.  I talk about that here.

Tuesday, July 7 –  Here’s a favorite story about my friend, Pam, and I making a short road trip that turned into a very looooong one, in Should A Road Trip Ever Involve a Fire Truck?

Wednesday, July 8 –  A girl’s first date should be sweet and memorable, right?  Wellll, here’s the story of DD’s first date — definitely one of the two! 

Thursday, July 9 –  In my on-going battle with age, I wrote this post about wandering lips, called Did You Put That Lipstick on in the Dark?

Friday, July 10 — Hello, hello!  Are you still there?  If so, I have one last favorite to share.   It’s about the time I wrote, and performed, a rap for the program at the retirement of a great guy who was head of the department I worked in at the truck manufacturer.  It’s called Is a Bad Rap Better than No Rap at All?  You can read it here. 

And then, hopefully, “Poof … I’m back!” on Saturday.

Mama Remembered: When Mama and Daddy Got Lost

 

   Jimmy at about 4 years old, safely between our sisters, Jean Marie and Martha Lou

An excerpt from Mama’s book, I Remember:

One Saturday afternoon Ruhl and I and the four kids were on Minnesota Avenue (the main shopping street in Kansas City at the time) shopping, when all at once we missed Jimmy, who was only four years old. 

We looked up and down Minnesota from Sixth to Seventh.  We went in all the stores we thought he might go into. When we couldn’t find him, we notified the police.  We had looked for about an hour when Ruhl said I should call our next door neighbor and see if anyone had brought him home.  So I called Mrs. Mead, who lived next door to us.  She said, yes, someone had taken him home and when we were not home, had taken him over to her house.  She said, here he came up to her house, carrying a big piece of cake and crying like his heart would break.  A young fellow had brought him home and he said he didn’t know how to find our address, but Jimmy had told him every turn to make. 

When Jimmy wouldn’t quit crying, they asked him where he wanted to go and he said, “Over to Grandma’s”.  Neither Mrs. Mead nor the young fellow knew where “Grandma” lived, but he told Jimmy if he could show him the way he would take him there.  And Jimmy did.

When Jimmy was safely at Grandma’s, he told her that Mama and Daddy were lost.

After we pieced it all together, what happened was that Jimmy walked off with another man, thinking it was Ruhl.  When he discovered his mistake, he couldn’t see us anywhere, so he kept on walking to the corner of Sixth and Minnesota.  He had been taught not to cross the street, so he turned the corner and went down to the next corner.  Then he didn’t know what to do, so he stood on the corner and cried. 

This young man that ran a filling station across the street came over and asked him what was the matter.  Jimmy said, “Mama and Daddy are lost.”  So, the young fellow took Jimmy over to his house that was next door to the filling station and his mother gave Jimmy a piece of cake.  When he still wouldn’t quit crying, they asked him his name and address.  He said, “James Ruhl R___, 1845 St. Paul.”  So the young fellow said if he knew where that was, he would take him home.  And Jimmy said, “I’ll show you” and he did.

After I talked to Mrs. Mead, Ruhl called the police and told them Jimmy had been found.  Then we headed for Grandma’s.  Jimmy was really glad we had been “found.”

Mama taught all of her children as early as possible to be able to say their full name and address.  And, I remember that part of what I was taught was my phone number too.  In fact, I can remember going to the Safeway with Mama when I was really little, and the people who worked there enjoying asking me my name, because they knew that every time they asked, they were going to hear my full name, address and phone number.

Simpler times.   

 

Not Just Any Business

 

About 20 years ago, Hubby and I noticed a really sharp Chrysler LeBaron that one of his co-workers was driving.  When Hubby commented on the car, the guy said he loved it, but loved the dealership where he had bought it even more.  He had bought the car at a very small Chrysler dealer run by three brothers in an equally small town way out in the county.

So, not too long after that, when we “needed” (Hubby is always looking for our next car) a car, we went there to buy it.  So, for quite a few years we bought our cars there, and the dealership proved to be everything we had heard.

Lynn, the oldest brother, was the salesman.  Louie was the brother who ran the repair shop and Max was the brother who ran the body shop.  Their dad had started the business in the 1920’s (in the same little concrete building where they were still located, next to the railroad tracks) but had died many years ago.  But, their mom was still their bookkeeper!  Truly, a family business. (btw, there is a fourth brother, Phil, who took a different career path — he’s the town marshal!)

When we bought cars from the brothers, we always felt we got a fair price, and, probably more importantly, when we had a vehicle serviced there, we never felt that we were over-charged, and never felt Louie recommended unnecessary repairs.  We felt, in every way, the brothers dealt with us ethically, and always pleasantly.

But, when our lives got busier it became obvious that we just didn’t have the time to run way out of our way (the opposite direction from our jobs) to have our car serviced, so we bought a car (not a Chrysler) that could be serviced by a near-by dealer.  I wrote a note to the brothers and told them how much we had appreciated dealing with them, and that if we ever decided to buy a Chrysler again, we would never buy one from anyone but them.  After that, we would occasionally run into one of  them, and they were always friendly.

Fast forward to a couple months ago when we saw in the paper that one of the dealerships that Chrysler was terminating their contract with was the brothers’.  It wasn’t really surprising because they certainly weren’t a big volume, high profile dealer, but it did make us feel bad for them.  The article did say that while they were obviously disappointed to no longer be able to sell new cars, they wouldn’t be closing … they would just sell used cars and continue to do service and body work.

Then, about a month later we saw that Lynn, the oldest brother, had died.  We weren’t able to go to the funeral, but the news did inspire us to talk again about how much we had enjoyed buying cars from him.  And, that here was another tragedy for the family, close on the heels of the Chrysler decision.

Then, a few weeks later, there was an article in our newspaper about the brother’s small, rural dealership being one of the ones that Chrysler had dropped.  The article was a poignant one about the history of the dealership and what a disappointment the severing of their very long relationship with Chrysler was to the family.  It had also talked about how especially hard the announcement had been on Lynn, the oldest brother.  And, that the timing of the announcement had been especially hard because it had come just a month after their mother, who had also worked in the office of the dealership all those years with Lynn, had died. 

The article went on to say that, even though it was a sad time for the brothers, Lynn’s 70th birthday arrived, and his family thought it was especially important now to celebrate that milestone.  So, one of the wive’s brought cake into the dealership at lunch, and they all had cake and there were more smiles than there had been for a while, and everyone was glad they had had a reason to celebrate.

But that afternoon Lynn was sitting at his desk in the office and suddenly slumped over and died. He had had a massive heart attack.

Can you die of a broken heart?  I think so.  And, I think Lynn did.

Hard times have made companies make hard decisions, and there will always be people who suffer because of those decisions.  And, in an abstract way, we say how sorry we are for the people impacted, but when you know the people involved personally, it makes you sorry in a makes-your-heart-ache, brings-a-tear-to-your-eye way.

We will always have great memories of the brothers and our dealings with them.  They did and still represent all that is admirable about a small family-run business.

Mama Remembered: An Overheard Conversation

 

    My three sisters in summer, 1933.  The baby is Martha Lou, then Betty Rose and Jean Marie.  Our brother, Jimmy, was born the next year and I was born 13 years later.

An excerpt from Mama’s book, I Remember:

Our house was pretty cold in the winter, so the kids wore long underwear and sometimes I let them sleep in it.  One night I heard Jean Marie say to Better Rose, “Your back door is open”.  Betty Rose replied, “My kitchen is hot.”  They were about four and three.

When I think about where their terminology might have come from, I can picture that, with no air conditioning, when Mama was in the kitchen cooking, she might have regularly said, “Whew, it’s hot in here, I’m going to open the door!”

Haven’t we all learned … children are always listening to and parroting what we say, sometimes in unexpected context!

Fighting Our Battles

 

 Chronicles 5:20  They cried out to God during the battle and He answered their prayer because they trusted Him.

Whatever our battle is — physical, mental, spiritual — God will help us with it if we just ask and trust.

Sometimes a recipe can just get away from you!

 

I am trying out some new recipes that I might like to make when Gunny and his family are here the week after the 4th of July.

I cut a recipe out of the newspaper for Asian Chicken, which looked good.  So, I decided to try it for dinner tonight.

Here’s the recipe:

Asian Chicken

8 oz. angel hair pasta, 2 C. small broccoli florets, 1 lb. skinless chicken breasts, cut in thin strips, 1/2 C. Asian toasted sesame dressing, 2 T. soy sauce, 1/4 t. ground ginger, 1/4 t. garlic powder, 1/4 t. crushed red pepper

Cook pasta as directed on package, add broccoli to the boiling water for the last 3 minutes of pasta cooking time. 

Spray a large non-stick skillet with cooking spray; heat on medium-high.  Add chicken and cook until done, stirring occasionally.  Stir in dressing, soy sauce, ginger, garlic powder and crushed red pepper.  Cook 1 minute, stirring occasionally. 

Drain pasta/broccoli and put in large bowl.  Add chicken mixture and mix.  Makes 4 servings.

I planned on making it exactly like the recipe, but then …

… I couldn’t find angel hair pasta, so bought cappellini

… I decided that one of the Steam Fresh microwave bags of broccoli florets was about 2 C. so I decided to use that, instead of cooking raw broccoli in with the pasta

… I bought a 2 lb. package of chicken tenders (the smallest they had), and would cut them into smaller pieces myself

… “Asian toasted sesame dressing”?  Really?  I looked at just about every bottle in the dressing aisle, and couldn’t find any that called themselves that, so I bought the closest thing — Paul Neuman’s Lite Asian Dressing, because it’s ingredients included sesame oil — close enough

And, other than those few variations, I was still on track to make exactly this recipe.

I hadn’t counted on how long it was going to take to cut those chicken tenders into smaller pieces (which I still didn’t get small enough), so the skillet I was heating had to have the very brown cooking spray wiped out of it once and I had to start over again.  Also, because I had two lbs. of chicken and was already cutting up half of it, I decided, “Well, I’ll just double the recipe, so that I can use all the chicken.”  Brilliant!  So, I quick threw the other half of the lb. box of cappellini into the pasta pot too.  And, I got out another bag of the Steam Fresh broccoli and would cook it as soon as the first bag came out of the microwave.  Okay.  So I was on line to double what I was sure would be a delicious dish, and we could have the other half tomorrow night!

   The result — a verrrry large bowl of Asian chicken.

This is a large mixing bowl and this is about how much double the recipe made — a huge amount.  Unfortunately, when this picture was taken, Hubby and I had already eaten a hearty meal’s worth out of the bowl for dinner, but there still appears to be the same amount left in the bowl!  How can that be?!

Some notes I’ll put on this recipe, so I don’t forget:

* Only double if you’re having eight hearty eaters over for dinner.

* Use half as much pasta and broccoli — the chicken gets lost in the shuffle.

*Cut the chicken in muuuuch smaller pieces.  Ditto the broccoli, and actually do like the recipe said and cook fresh broccoli in with the pasta that has been cut in very small pieces.

This was one of those instances when a recipe sort of got away from me!  We’ll be eating this for days.  And, of course, will then be sick of it by the time Gunny and his family get here, so won’t be making it for them. Sigh.

Next, I’ll be trying a Mexican casserole recipe that a friend at WW gave me.  It looks good, but I’m going to follow the recipe exactly … and I’m NOT going to double it!

My Early “Law Enforcement” Career!

 

I’ve already told you about Officer Dan and shown you the consequences of my early need for speed, but, for the sake of being “fair and balanced” I should also show you that I did actually do some “enforcing” myself …

    In sixth grade, I was a safety patrol!

On the fashion front, let’s just analyze this outfit.  First of all, I’m sure it was at Mama’s insistance that I was wearing a headscarf, because she wouldn’t have wanted me to get cold while standing on a corner making small children safe.  And, it may look a little odd now that I was wearing a dress (if my head would have gotten cold, what about those legs?), but girls never wore pants to school when I was in school, even in high school.   And, yes, those are saddle shoes and bobby socks — a part of any well-dressed girl’s attire in 1959.  I remember the jacket – my favorite red denim one, and, of course, the ensemble was finished off by the “badge” of authority, my safety patrol belt! 

My elementary school had six grades, so as “the big kids” sixth graders were selected to be safety patrols.  And I was one of the ones chosen!  It required us to walk to our designated corner about a half hour early and then stand there until almost time for school to start to make sure that the kids got across the street safely. By the way, these were neighborhood streets, not busy main streets. 

I’m pretty sure Mama told me what pose to strike for this picture, because I doubt that I would have come up with that look of authority on my own.  This was before schools  figured out that small children escorting even smaller children across streets probably wasn’t the best idea, and started hiring adults to do it.

Now, in case you’re thinking that this was just a “glamour” job, let me tell you it wasn’t without its risks! 

One dreary morning, after an overnight rain, when it was time for me to leave my post and walk the block to school, I approached the corner in front of the school where two boys I knew were the patrols, Tom and Tom.  But, unknown to me, while Tom and Tom had been standing at their corner, they had realized that the big, flat rock (about 3 ft. across as I remember) laying there had water under it and that if you stepped on one corner of it, a little bit of the water would spurt out from under the other side.  Soooo, as I approached, they decided that it would be funny to surprise me with their new “toy”.  So, as I walked up, one of them didn’t just step on one side of the rock — he jumped on the rock!  Instantly, a huge spray of dirty water shot out from under the rock and covered me in mud!  I cried.  They laughed.  The principal spanked both of them and drove me home to change my clothes. 

That may have been when they decided adults were better for those jobs.